


Kill a demon today…

by Blue_Daisies_In_The_Shadows



Series: I'm blaming my friend for all of this [1]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Angry Pitch Black, Angst and Humor, Aromantic, Asexual Character, Blood and Gore, Comfort/Angst, Creepy, Dark, Dark Jack, Dark Past, Drug Abuse, Drug Dealing, Drug Use, Eventual Jack Frost/Pitch Black, Falling In Love, Family Secrets, Friends to Lovers, Good Pitch Black, Heavy Angst, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Inspired by Music, Jack Feels, Jack Frost and Pitch Black as Allies, Jack Has Issues, Jack being Jack, Love Confessions, M/M, Major Original Character(s), Minor Character Death, Multi, Not Happy, Obsessive Pitch Black, Original Character Death(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Original Character, Past Character Death, Past Drug Use, Pitch Black Has Feelings, Poor Jack, Protective Jack, Protective Pitch Black, Protective Sanderson Mansnoozie, References to Drugs, Sad, Sassy Sanderson Mansnoozie, Science Experiments, Serial Killers, Sibling Love, Superpowers, Temporary Amnesia, keeping secrets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2016-03-15
Packaged: 2018-05-06 14:30:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5420621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Daisies_In_The_Shadows/pseuds/Blue_Daisies_In_The_Shadows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack's life sucks, and that was before he met Pitch Black and almost died twice in the same day.  Now he's a detective's assistant and has to adapt fast or he really will die.  Pitch's cases are far from normal and the impossible is around every corner.  Jack's just a normal guy thrown into all this... right?</p><p>On hiatus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. "You're gonna go far kid"

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is not beta read and it's best just to assume that unless I saw otherwise for the rest of it. Feel free to point out anything I missed so I can go back and fix it, otherwise mind the tags. There are a few things that could be considered triggering, so please be careful!

It’s amazing how fast life could change. Jack was living proof of that. Yesterday he’d been running about the streets doing his job quite well and now he was staring down death. This was all that Pitch guys fault! How did Jack manage to steal the wallet off the only psychopath in the city actually capable of tracking him down? And now he was in this mess! Jack was just fine with going back to starving on the streets if this was the outcome of repaying the guy whose wallet he stole. Jack was never going to steal any sleazy looking guy’s wallet ever again! He didn’t want to go back to this!

-

It was Monday and Jack was hungry. He hadn’t eaten in over forty-eight hours and was beginning to wonder why there had been so few rich people in this part of town over the weekend. Sure, this was a pretty damn terrible part of town, but the sleazy ones made it a habit. Just as Jack was contemplating the difficulty of convenience store robberies, he saw him. 

The guy was tall, dressed all in black and stood out like a sore thumb in this kinda neighborhood. Well, actually Jack was currently in the business district, but it’s not like housing was any better. Jack slid off the filthy alley wall and placed himself in the guy dressed, for some reason, all in black’s way. As they grew closer, Jack tripped just the slightest bit, “accidently” stumbling against the guy. 

“I’m so sorry!” Jack said as he caught himself.

“I’d be more careful around here if I were you kid.” The guy said as he walked off.

Jack suppressed a laugh and headed down the street, Mr. Black’s wallet in hand. He slipped down a few side streets and when he was far enough away Jack paused and looked through the wallet. The credit cards didn’t interest him much, made it way too easy to track him down. He was too paranoid for that. Jack went right for the cash, pulling out the… damn! This guy must be loaded, Jack thought as he riffled through the cash. Five hundred dollars in twenties, what the hell did this guy do to be wondering around with that kind of cash?

Jack flipped through the wallet, after pocketing the money, until he found the driver’s license. Then he burst out laughing.

“Seriously?” Jack laughed. “His last name is actually Black?”

“Indeed.” A voice said from behind him. “And I’d like that returned little thief.”

Jack froze and slowly turned around to see the supposed Pitch black glaring at him.

“Sure thing, man.” Jack said, easily tossing him the wallet back. “Sorry ‘bout that!”

With that Jack sprinted off, silently freaking out at how easy it had been for that man to track him down, let alone sneak up on him. Jack was a street kid, he never let his guard down and certainly never let anyone sneak up on him!

Jack finally ended up close to the abandoned warehouse he called home, so he stashed most of the money in his walls before heading out with enough to buy him a meal. One trip to the cheapest food in ten miles and Jack was happily eating lunch in the nearby park. Of course he wasn’t stupid, he was well hidden up in a tree and far away from any potential bullets or other harm. 

Jack sighed as he finished up his meal, thrilled to be something other than hungry for the first time in months. Of course his day just had to go downhill from there.

“By wallet I did mean the cash as well.” A now terrifyingly familiar voice said from below Jack. 

Jack looked down in shock to see, once again, Pitch Black glaring up at him.

“Would you believe me if I said I have no idea what you’re talking about?” Jack asked nervously. 

“No.” Pitch Black said angrily. “There aren’t many kids that dye their hair white around here.”

“Like I have the money for that.” Jack sniggered. “It’s natural.”

“White hair is not natural.” Pitch black rolled his eyes. “Now hand over the cash and run home to mommy and daddy.”

“Sorry man.” Jack shrugged, standing up on the tree branch. “Already spent it.”

“You what?” Pitch Black growled.

“Spent it. Your money’s gone.” Jack said, really hoping he wasn’t gonna get shot for this.

Pitch Black sputtered up at him incredulously. 

“You spent five hundred dollars within two hours?” Pitch Black sputtered.

Jack was about to reply, but a sudden click across the park had Jack leaping from the tree. Jack slammed into Pitch Black hard enough to throw him into the ground… just as the bullet went through the air where he had been standing. Well, mostly air. Jack hissed as his shirt ripped and blood began to seep into the fabric. 

Yep, Jack thought. That was deep. That’d leave a scar.

Pitch gasped in surprise as Jack threw himself around the stranger, keeping him down and still for a minute until there was no sign of anymore gunshots.

“Do you have a car around here?” Jack whispered.

“Yes.” Pitch Black muttered back.

“Run to it in three… two…one…now!” Jack exclaimed as he jumped up, dashing to the side as Pitch raced towards his car. 

Jack shadowed him, keeping in between the sniper and the man who wallet he stole. Pitch slid into the car and Jack stepped back, about to sprint off before Pitch Black grabbed his wrist and threw him unceremoniously into the car. Jack gasped as he landed in the shotgun seat with his legs in Pitch Black’s lap. Pitch Black slammed the door closed and sped off towards the upper side of town. 

Jack stared at him in shock. Was he being kidnapped? Was this about the money, damn it! How did he manage to rob the only psychopath in town?! Jack was never going to steal any sleazy looking guy’s wallet ever again! 

“W-where are we going?” Jack stuttered nervously.

“My house.” Pitch Black replied sharply.

Jack Froze before looking at the speedometer. Ninety miles an hour. He was roadkill if he jumped out now. Jack looked up to see a stoplight coming up. It was red and Pitch Black had no choice but to slow down or get hit. Jack took it as the blessing it was and dived at the door. Pitch Black hissed and grabbed his ankle, dragging Jack back into the car and pulling away. 

Jack screamed in shock as Pitch Black kept a solid hand around his ankle in an iron grip.

I’m going to die, Jack thought in horror.

Pitch Black finally came to a stop in front of the fanciest apartments Jack had ever seen. Jack began to panic again as Pitch dragged him out of the car and in through the back entrance. Within seconds Jack was stuck in an elevator with the guy. Jack looked up to the roof of the elevator, eying the emergency trap door.

“Don’t even think about it.” Pitch Black growled, tightening his grip on Jack.

The elevator arrived at their stop before Jack could try anything and he was drug into the nicest room he’d ever been in. Pitch Black finally let go of Jack and closed the door behind him, locking it for good measure.

“How did you know that guy was going to shoot?” Pitch Black growled, glaring at Jack. 

“Intuition.” Jack lied. “I’m have a shit ton of it. Reason I’m still alive.”

“Why did you save me?” Pitch Black asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Are you crazy?” Jack asked, shocked. “I wasn’t going to let someone die in front of me!”

“You could have gotten hit.” Pitch Black said.

“Didn’t exactly have time to weigh my options.” Jack snapped back. “Are you complaining?”

“No.” Pitch Black said reluctantly.

“Then stop looking the horse in the mouth.” Jack said. “What the fuck did you do to get a hit out on you?”

“That’s none of your business.” Pitch Black said stiffly.

“You made it my business when you dragged me here!” Jack snapped.

“If I left you there you could’ve- no likely would’ve died.” Pitch Black replied.

“So what?” Jack replied. “And if you thought of that why did you bother asking why I saved you?”

“I’m used to ulterior motives… wait so what?” Pitch Black asked.

“Paranoid much?” Jack rolled his eyes.

“Very.” Pitch Black said, deadpan. “Why do not care that you could’ve been killed?”

“Well it’s not like it matters, does it?” Jack shrugged, looking at Pitch Black with open curiosity.

“Are you serious?” Pitch Black asked, shocked.

“It’s not like anyone would’ve noticed.” Jack said, slowly and carefully standing. “Not like I want to die though. So if you don’t mind…”

“You’re hurt.” Pitch Black said, finally noticing Jack’s back.

“I’m fine.” Jack said stiffly. “I’ve had worse.” 

“Let me patch you up.” Pitch Black sighed. “It’s my fault you’re hurt anyways.”

“I’d rather…” Jack began only to be silenced by Pitch Black’s glare.

“Sit.” Pitch Black said, gesturing to a comfy and expensive looking chair.

Jack glanced around before sitting on a wooden stool that looked much less expensive than the other chair as Pitch Black left the room. He’d rather not ruin any of the guy’s expensive stuff. Jack doubted that he was going to be killed by the man, but no need to upset him either.

Pitch Black gave him an odd look when he returned, but didn’t question his seating choice. He carefully removed Jack’s shirt and winced at the large scratch across his back.

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” Pitch Black asked.

“Well, we were running away from a crazy person, then you kidnapped me, then we played twenty questions.” Jack said, hissing slightly as Pitch Black cleaned his wound. “It wasn’t important.”

“This is really deep, it’s going to need stiches.” Pitch Black grumbled. “In fact I’m surprised you’re still conscious.” 

“I’m tough.” Jack grinned. 

“I’m going to go get something to help with the pain.” Pitch Black rolled his eyes.

“It’s fine, no need.” Jack said.

“Kid, I’m going to be stitching you up.” Pitch Black said. “You’re going to need to something.”

“I’ve stitched myself up just fine before.” Jack shrugged. “No biggie. Oh, and I’m not a kid.”

“You’re what, fifteen?” Pitch Black said. “And I’m not stitching you up without something, so drink brat.”

“Nineteen?” Jack said as he downed the liquid reluctantly.

“Pardon?” Pitch Black said as he slowly began to stitch Jack up.

“I’m nineteen.” Jack said, not even flinching at the pain that whatever Pitch Black had given him couldn’t numb. 

“No, you’re not.” Pitch Black said, continuing his work.

“True story. I’m nineteen.” Jack laughed.

“Sit still.” Pitch Black hissed.

“Sorry.” Jack said, instantly stilling.

“How are you fine about all this?” Pitch Black asked.

“I’m adaptable.” Jack replied. “Who tried to kill you?”

“How should I know?” Pitch Black asked.

“I know I said he was crazy…” Jack laughed. “But he was hired to kill you. So what’d you do?”

“How do you know I did anything at all?” Pitch Black asked. “He could just be after my money.”

“Well yeah, but I think he’d be more interested in the fact that you can turn invisible.” Jack said calmly as if he was commenting on the weather.

“Pardon?” Pitch Black asked, frozen.

“You managed to track even me, which I can mostly put to great detective skills, but you managed to sneak up on me. Nobody does that.” Jack said.

“Maybe I’m just a great detective.” Pitch Black said. 

“And I saw you suddenly become visible.” Jack said.

“You could’ve lead with that.” Pitch Black said stiffly as he finished up Jack’s stiches.

“Yeah, I guess.” Jack shrugged as Pitch Black began to wrap bandages around him.

“How did you know I was a detective?” Pitch Black asked.

“I saw your badge.” Jack replied. “How do you turn invisible?”

“I think really hard about it.” Pitch Black replied dryly.

“That’s annoying.” Jack said. “It’d be cooler if it was easy to turn on and off.”

“Life rarely works like that.” Pitch Black replied as he finished Jack’s bandages.

Jack scooped his filthy, blood-stained, torn-up remains of a shirt off the floor and began to slip it on.

“Just throw it away.” Pitch Black said.

“Dude, it’s my only shirt.” Jack said, slowly lowering his arms.

“I brought you another one.” Pitch Black said, holding up a- what a surprise- black shirt.

Jack sighed and dropped the shirt again, taking the one from Pitch Black. It was a bit big on him, quite a bit given their size differences actually.

“Thanks.” Jack said happily.

“You’re sure easy to please.” Pitch Black snorted.

“Habit of optimism.” Jack replied. “Seen pessimism kill too many people.”

“What are you talking…” Pitch Black began.

“Are you expecting someone?” Jack asked suddenly, head tilted to one side and eyes glued to the door.

“No, why do you ask?” Pitch Black asked.

“Because someone is walking down the hall towards this door.” Jack replied.

“You can’t possibly…” Pitch Black began, only to come to a halt as he finally heard the footsteps feet away from his door.

“How did you?” Pitch Black muttered.

“Good hearing.” Jack replied. “What me to go hide?”

“That’d probably be best.” Pitch Black said as he pulled out his gun and carefully removed the safety.

“Alighty then.” Jack whispered as a knock on the door rang out.

Jack crept out of the room and found a nice looking bedroom a few rooms over. He glanced around and quickly decided that the closet was indeed a terrible place to hide. He did roll his eyes at the black sheets on the bed, black curtains and even black carpet. Guy was obsessive.

Jack continued onward past a kitchen and bathroom as quietly as possible, which was close to silent. He finally found what appeared to be a wide, open artist’s room. It was octagonal in shape, with windows on all the outward facing walls with wooden floors and a high ceiling. Well, all the ceilings had decent height, but this one had rafters high above. Jack glanced back and saw that no one was near, so he decided this would work as a hiding place. Not the actual room of course, although Pitch Black appeared to have turned it into a study hall for his cases if all the boards and faces staring out at jack was anything to go by, but the rafters were a decent spot. 

They were too high for most people to actually consider it possible to reach, but Jack had made his way into tougher hiding spots. If people thought it wasn’t possible to reach a spot, they were unlikely to check it. Jack glanced around before nimbly and quietly as he could running full speed at the wall across the room and managing to get up high enough to shove off and just barely snag a beam with his fingertips. He then swung a moment to get the momentum to ease his way up. From there he climbed up to the well-hidden and dusty center beam a few several feet below the roof. He had just enough room to sit up there, his hair barely brushing the ceiling. 

Jack leaned back and slowly breathed out, stilling his entire frame with reluctance. He wasn’t fond of sitting absolutely still. He closed his eyes and focused on listening in on the conversation across the house. Even with his hearing he really had to focus to pick up the whispers.

“Adrian, what the hell are you doing here?” Pitch Black was asking.

“Heard about a car matching yours driving recklessly.” An unfamiliar voice said.

It was deep and sounded slightly amused and Jack could practically hear the shrug in his words. Just the voice made Jack think cowboy.

“Yeah, I was almost shot.” Pitch Black snapped, loud enough for Jack to easily hear.

“What happened?” The other man asked.

“Sniper, probably someone with a vested interest in my current case.” Pitch Black sighed.

“The Last Lover?” The cowboy asked.

“I don’t know where the media got that name.” Pitch Black sighed. “There’s nothing sexual in the kills or even romantic.”

“They remove the victim’s heart after drugging them.” The cowboy said. “I think it’s the heart thing.”

“It’s ridiculous.” Pitch Black sighed.

Jack had heard about this case. So far over thirty people had been taken out by the killer, and if that wasn’t enough to draw the media the near impossible state of the bodies were. It wasn’t that they were mutilated or anything, it was the fact that it was the opposite. The bodies looked completely unharmed, like someone had just fallen asleep… in an alley… and never woken up. The bodies had no harm with the exception of a missing heart. In fact, some were even healthier than to be expected for their age. Of course, no one could connect the victims either, they ranged from fifteen to fifty. Jack had read the whole article… and promptly decided to watch his back extra carefully from then on. He loved life… most of the time. Some of the time. Occasionally.

“Any leads?” The cowboy asked.

“Other than that I think someone tried to shoot me for them, no.” Pitch Black sighed. “I’ve got nothing.”

“That’s unusual for you.” The cowboy said.

“Shut up.” Pitch Black groaned. 

Jack could hear him sitting down, but he also heard something else in the distance. It was really, really faint… but it was there. Jack’s eyes snapped open and he carefully made his way back to the floor. He regretfully climbed out the window, shoeless and made his way down- luckily- the back side of the building.

Jack made his way through the streets as fast as he could until he reached the alley he heard the muffled gasps and other sounds of terror. Jack froze as he entered the deserted back street.   
Well, he wasn’t wrong about something being wrong. What was that saying about the devil?

Speak of the devil…

 

… And she shall appear.

Jack shook in terror and horror as he stared at the women carefully setting aside the heart with bloodied, gloved hands into a regular looking box before closing it. Then she strangely took the gloves off and placed them into her pocket. Then she placed a single finger on the remains of the man’s chest and all the blood and gore faded away. She quickly redressed the man and stood up.

Jack was still in shock, unable to move an inch. He shook slightly, and mentally tried quite desperately to get himself to move even a little.

The women turned around, her face masked with a sleek green and expressionless piece of plastic. Jack could practically feel the smile on her face.

“Oh, you saw that?” The women asked.

“Las-la-last lover.” Jack muttered without even thinking about it.

“Ugh, I hate that name.” The women groaned. “I’m ace for god’s sake!”

Jack just stared at the women in terror.

“I should kill you for seeing that you know.” The women said conversationally. “But for some reason I think I’d regret that.”

Jack just continued to stare.

The women stepped up to the young man and leaned forward. 

“So I’ll let you live.” The women whispered in Jack’s ear before leaning back slightly to look at Jack straight in the face.

Jack was still close enough to make out her clear, almost gentle but amused brown eyes.

“It’ll be our little secret, ok?” The women asked as she reached up and put a single finger to Jack’s lips.

She slowly drew it away, smearing the little blood she had on her across Jack’s lips.

“See you later little winter spirit. Jokul…” The women whispered.

Then she was gone and Jack had fallen to his knees, too panicked to even remain standing.

-

It took Jack several minutes to stand up and nearly a half hour had passed by the time that Jack made it back into Pitch Black’s apartment. Jack was still slightly shocked, shaking crazily and having trouble standing. He fell back against the wall of the room with rafters and just trembled. Jack didn’t know how long he sat there, but eventually he lifted his hand to wipe the blood from his lips. Jack stared at the stained sleeve before using it to rub his lips raw. He probably wouldn’t have stopped if he didn’t hear the voices outside the room.

“You seriously picked up some kid off the street, Pitch?” The voice said.

“You’d rather a let him die?” Pitch Black snapped back.

“Not what I meant.” The cowboy said. 

“Jack?” Pitch Black was asking.

Suddenly the man was in front of him, snapping his fingers to get Jack’s attention.

“I’m going to puke.” Jack said emotionlessly before leaning over and doing just that.

“Ugh, really?” The cowboy groaned. “A druggie?”

“Not that I knew of.” Pitch Black grumbled after he jumped back.

Jack finally finished and looked up at the tall figure before him, wiping his mouth clean on a shirt sleeve. That seemed to annoy Pitch Black before Jack leapt forward and clung to him with all his might.

“What the hell?” Pitch Black gasped as he tumbled back.

“She killed him.” Jack muttered. “She killed him, she killed him!”

Jack had tears running down his face now as he trembled against Pitch Black.

“What, who killed who?” Pitch Black asked in confusion. 

“The girl in the green mask.” Jack replied.

“What girl Jack, what girl?” Pitch Black asked.

“Oh my god, she took out his heart.” Jack muttered.

Pitch Black froze and stared at the young man in his arms.

“You saw her do this?” Pitch Black asked.

“I heard him!” Jack sobbed. “But it was too late! And she said, she said…”

“She saw you?” Pitch Black gasped.

“It’ll be our little secret.” Jack whispered, suddenly jerking back.

Jack rubbed desperately at his lips again, tears flowing in full force. 

“Jack, stop!” Pitch Black exclaimed, grabbing both his hands.

Jack looked up and Pitch Black and for a second his eyes cleared.

“She knew my…” Jack began.

Then he promptly passed out.

-

The house was nondescript. Boring, yet homey. It was comforting and filled with blankets. A young women opened the door with her key and dragged in her bulky bag.

“Hey, I need a favor.” The women said.

A figure in shadows, wrapped in a blanket, slowly turned around in their chair. The figure’s face was softly illuminated by the monitors’ light.

“Dew.” The figure said quietly. “I’ve been expecting you.”

-

Miles away from where Jack was being cared for by Pitch a blonde women sat in captivity. She glared at the bars of the massive bird cage surrounding her, hating that she had yet to figure out a form of escape. The blonde pushed up her glasses and sighed, wondering what her friend was doing. She hoped he was okay. Knowing that guy though he was fine. 

Live figured that even without all his memories Jokul would figure out some way to survive. She wished he remember here, but then again even if he did she was supposed to be dead. Not even her friend would hope to help a dead girl.

“Good morning, Live. Remembering anything helpful about our little winter spirit?”


	2. “Forever Young”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Pitch bond meanwhile the killer strikes again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter finished, so expect slow updates. Sorry:(

Pitch sat in his living room staring down at the teen sleeping on his couch. Of course, passed out was a better term for what Jack currently was doing. Pitch frowned as Jack began to gasp and twitch again, far from peaceful. How the hell did this single kid manage to get involved in anything and everything life threatening?

Shit, Pitch had basically kidnapped him in retrospect, and then the kid confronts a serial killer. He hoped that Jack’s daily life was a bit less traumatizing then this usually. 

“Kid’s still asleep?” Adrien asked.

Pitch looked over at his old… colleague.

“Obviously.” Pitch replied.

“He had some good info at least.” Adrien shrugged as he sat down in the arm chair Pitch had gestured for Jack to earlier.

Pitch still didn’t understand why the teen had chosen to sit on the uncomfortable stool verses the very comfortable chair. He was a bit strange.

“I didn’t save his life to use him as serial killer bait.” Pitch replied.

“Not what I meant.” Adrien said. “I just meant that as unfortunate as it is, he can tell us more about the culprit.” 

“They’re a women.” Pitch said, falling in detective mode.

“I heard, he spit out anything else?” Adrien asked.

Pitch was about to say no, but was interrupted.

“Black hair.” Was whispered shakily.

“Jack!” Pitch exclaimed. “Are you okay?”

“No.” The teenager said bluntly. “I’m definitely not okay, Pitch Black.”

“Just Pitch is fine.” Pitch said, gently helping the boy sit up.

“Sorry, habit.” Jack replied, curling up slightly on the couch. “Who’s the cowboy?”

“I’m not a cowboy, how do I look like a cowboy?” Adrien asked.

“You’re wearing a riding jacket.” Jack said.

“I don’t even have a hat!” The blonde said.

“You have a gun.” Jack pointed out.

Adrien looked surprised, his gun was currently in a holster, hidden by his jacket.

“Impressive observation, but I’m a cop, sorry.” Adrien said. “Not a cowboy.”

“You’re hair’s too long anyway.” Jack pouted slightly.

Pitch smiled at the white haired boy, glad he was feeling better. He then looked over at his colleague and suppressed a laugh. The blonde was decently tall, with hair that went past his shoulders and typically wore dark clothes. He was also pretty decently built, and Pitch knew from experience, tough as hell. The guy was a cop, one of the few that knew about… people like Pitch, of course he was tough. He had to be to take on these psychos. Yet he was glaring at the lithe teen that didn’t look like he could hurt a fly like the kid had kicked his dog.

“My hair is at a great length.” The man snapped back, annoyed.

“Whatever you say goldilocks.” Jack grinned.

Adrien opened his mouth to snap something back, but obviously thought better of it. Instead he grinned a bit unnervingly and looked at Jack intently.

“What do you remember from the murder? Tell us exactly what happened.” Adrien said.

Jack gulped and looked down, taking a few breaths before he looked up with determination. Jack stared right at Pitch, seeming to ignore Adrien and began to tell the story.

“I heard a scream in the big octagonal room from a few streets over.” Jack began.

“Is that a joke?” Adrien asked.

“He has abnormal hearing?” Pitch replied, finally realizing how Jack had figured out the gunman was there.

“Do you take any colored pills?” Adrien immediately asked.

Pitch narrowed his eyes, waiting for the answer and hoping it wasn’t a…

“No?” Jack asked looking confused. “I don’t take any pills. I’m too busy getting money for actual food.”

Pitch sighed in relief, glad he didn’t have a popper on his hands.

“What happened next?” Pitch asked, drawling the conversation back to where it began.

“I went after the source of the sound, but when I got to the alley…” Jack flinched, looking slightly nauseous. “It was too late.”

“She’d already killed someone.” Adrien stated.

“Yes, but…” Jack paused. “She’s not normal.”

“What do you mean?” Pitch asked as he leaned forward, this was more information then he thought he’d get.

“She’s like you, sorta.” Jack said.

“She has an ability.” Adrien stated.

“You know about that?” Jack asked.

“Got involved with Pitch’s first case.” Adrien said. “I’ve taken any case I think is related to these freaks since.”

“I take offense to that.” Pitch said dryly.

“What did she do?” Adrien asked. “Super strength?”

“No.” Jack said. “She healed him.”

“Jack, the guys dead, she couldn’t have healed him.” Pitch sighed.

“I’m not saying she brought him back to life, she took out his heart Pitch. Then she healed the body.” Jack explained. “He didn’t even look hurt afterwards.”

“Seriously?” Adrien said. “A green serial killer?”

“Green?” Jack asked. “She wasn’t wearing green. She had black hair and brown eyes.”

“Not what I meant, but useful information.” Adrien replied. “Do you remember what her face looked like?”

“She wore a mask.” Jack said. “I only know her eye color because she got so close to me.”

“She got close enough that you could see her eye color with a mask on?” Pitch asked concerned.

Jack nodded and unconsciously rubbed his lips.

“She realized I was there and walked over to me.” Jack replied.

“Wait, she saw you and just let you go?” Adrien asked suspiciously.

“Not exactly.” Jack said. “She said that… she thought she’d regret killing me.”

“What?” Pitch asked, looking very confused.

“She said it would be… our little secret.” Jack continued. “Then she…”

Jack rubbed at his lips again, trailing off.

“What, did she kiss you?” Adrien asked.

“No.” Jack said. “She said she was ace, I doubt she’d want to.”

“Oh, so you just had a chat with her then?” Adrien said dryly.

“No, she said that’s why she hates the name the media gave her.” Jack shot back.

“Jack, what did she do?” Pitch asked.

“She put a finger to my lips and said…” Jack swallowed and looked away.

“Said what, Jack?” Pitch asked gently.

“That she’d see me later.” Jack whispered. “She said my…”

“Your what?” Adrien asked.

“What?” Jack asked, looking up at him.

“You said that she said something of yours. What was it? Your name?” Adrien asked.

“What are you talking about?” Jack asked, looking genuinely confused.

Pitch and Adrien exchanged looks and looked back at the confused teenager.

“Never mind.” Pitch said. “Do you remember anything else?”

“She left after that.” Jack shook his head. “Oh, but she did take the heart… in a box.”

“Typical serial killer behavior.” Adrien sighed.

“Well, I can say I took his statement here.” Adrien continued after a moment of silence. “They usually give me a little leeway on these kind of cases.”

“Put out a description for the person.” Pitch nodded. “Let me know if you find anything.”

“Always.” Adrien shrugged as he adjusted his coat and got ready to leave. “See yeah later, kid.”

Jack nodded and watched Adrien walk out of the door before sighing and flopping back on Pitch’s couch.

“I cannot believe the day I’ve had.” Jack groaned.

“A bit more active than your usual ones?” Pitch chuckled.

“Yes, I mean I’ve have people chase me all the time… but…” Jack said.

“The people you steal from are not like that women.” Pitch said.

“Yeah.” Jack said. “Can’t believe I met two super-humans in one day.”

“We’re not exactly super-humans.” Pitch laughed.

“You turn invisible and heal people.” Jack stated. “What else would you call that?”

“Druggies.” Pitch shrugged.

“Come again?” Jack asked, lifting his head up to raise an eyebrow at Pitch.

“The abilities come from a certain experiment.” Pitch said. “My brother got involved and realized what was really happening. He asked me for help and we brought the project at a halt, burned everything and made sure that the scientists wouldn’t be repeating it.”

“So the killer is from the experiment?” Jack asked.

Pitch shrugged and leaned back in his chair.

“I don’t know.” Pitch said. “I only arrived in phase three. There was a zero through two that she could have been part of, or she could be an after effect.”

“After effect?” Jack asked.

“The abilities were originally in pills.” Pitch explained. “You took one a day and had the ability. Eventually my brother stabilized it so it would be permanent and with a shot.”

“Oh, so you don’t have to take the pills anymore?” Jack asked.

“I don’t, but most people do.” Pitch replied. “The side effects are horrible if you don’t, eventually leading to death. Each ability is different too. The after effects are people who got ahold of the pills after we stopped the project. Someone is still making them.”

“You’re trying to find out who.” Jack stated.

“Yes.” Pitch nodded.

“Why did Adrien call the women a green?” Jack asked.

“There were nine pills, nine different abilities.” Pitch said. “They were color coded, so most people just went by their color.”

“Please tell me your color was black.” Jack grinned.

“What’s wrong with having a favorite color that’s the same as my last name?” Pitch scowled.

“What are the abilities then?” Jack asked eagerly.

Pitch rolled his eyes at the teen’s excitement, but he had to admit it was rather endearing. 

“Black is invisibility, green is healing.” Pitch replied. “Red is the super strength Adrien mentioned.”

“Alright.” Jack nodded. “And the other six?”

“Orange is fire.” Pitch said.

“They can create fire?” Jack asked eagerly.

“No.” Pitch replied, rolling his eyes at Jack’s pout.

That was becoming way too much of a habit around the boy.

“They can control fire that already exists.” Pitch said. “The same goes for yellow with electricity.”

“That’s way more boring.” Jack sighed.

“Trust me, some of those subjects were scary as hell.” Pitch shuddered. “And I never even met any of the original subjects.”

“Sure.” Jack said. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“Blue is intelligence.” Pitch continued, ignoring Jack. “They were… unnerving.”

“How so?” Jack asked.

“They were overly rational.” Pitch frowned. “They used logic in every situation. They didn’t have very strong emotions. The drug made them brilliant, but also gave them sociopathic tendencies.”

“Sounds like they got the short end of the stick.” Jack said.

“All the pills had side effects, Jack.” Pitch said. “Pyromaniacs, paranoia, phobias, narcissism, sociopathic tendencies… and…”

“What?” Jack asked.

“By stage two one color had to be halted. The side effects were too extreme.” 

Pitch said.

“Why?” Jack asked. “What did they do?”

“Purple… apparently they had psychic abilities.” Pitch said. “Seeing the future, moving objects, the whole thing. Of course, they only had one ability apiece, but even that…”

“There were side effects.” Jack whispered.

“The power burned out their brains, literally.” Pitch winced. “Only about fifteen in the first phase survived and they weren’t… right.”

“They tried to kill people or something?” Jack asked.

“Jack, they were so powerful that the scientists literally gave up and poisoned them all. They didn’t see themselves as human and therefore treated humans like ants. They were like children that could throw buildings. Disconnected enough to do horrible things because it was fun and no one could control them.” Pitch said.

“It wasn’t their fault, though.” Jack frowned.

“They still had to be stopped.” Pitch argued.

“So they killed them?” Jack asked angrily.

“They didn’t hurt them, they weren’t cruel at least.” Pitch sighed.

“Still doesn’t mean they weren’t monsters for it.” Jack spat.

“Do you want to know the rest of the abilities or not?” Pitch asked.

“Nice topic change.” Jack muttered. “Fine, sure.”

“Gray is shifting and white is light manipulation.” Pitch said.

“They can change into wolves and control light?” Jack asked.

“No, again.” Pitch replied. “They gray can change their features, add or subtract a few pounds, same with inches. No animals, just people whom are near their build.”

“That’s less fun.” Jack said.

“We’re not in a comic book, it’s not supposed to be fun.” Pitch sighed.

“But aren’t those light people super powerful?” Jack asked.

“Not really.” Pitch said. “They have restrictions too.”

“Like what?” Jack asked.

“Firstly, it has to be natural light, so nothing out of a lightbulb.” Pitch said. “Most can only use direct light too and most importantly, they have to be around the light. They can’t control the sun, they can bend the sunlight within a few feet of them.”

“Couldn’t they concentrate even that enough to kill someone?” Jack asked. “They’d be able to create lasers!”

“I never said they weren’t dangerous.” Pitch said.

“You’re pretty weak compared to most of these guys.” Jack laughed.

Pitch scowled at him and then literally disappeared. Jack blinked and looked around. Suddenly Pitch was in front of him, a hand on his throat.

“If you can’t see me, you can’t hurt me.” Pitch smiled slightly. “But I can hurt you.”

“Not if I hear you.” Jack grinned back as Pitch let him go.

“Most people can’t hear me, you’re special.” Pitch said as he sat back.

“Wanna know a secret?” Jack grinned.

Pitch raised an eyebrow and looked at the teen curiously.

“I have really great senses.” Jack grinned. 

“I already figured that out.” Pitch said dryly.

Jack laughed and then strode over to his fridge and pulled out a random bit of leftovers and set it in front of Pitch.

“Pasta salad.” Pitch said, confused.

“Yep, remember all the ingredients in it?” Jack asked.

“I made it last night, of course I do.” Pitch scowled.

Jack grinned and reached down, taking a bite of the salad and chewing slowly, contemplating. 

“What are you doing?” Pitch asked.

Jack put up one finger and swallowed.

“Wheat pasta, three whole green onions, weirdo, four ounces of parmesan cheese, two and a half cucumbers, sixteen ounces of Italian dressing, one teaspoon of Italian seasoning, five chopped up tomatoes and a pinch of salt.” Jack said. “Oh, and a bit of pepper. You’re kinda off.”

“What the hell?” Pitch muttered.

“So, am I right or am I right?” Jack ginned.

“That’s amazing.” Pitch said.

“Thanks, by the way.” Jack said as he continued to eat the pasta salad.

“For?” Pitch asked.

“Not taking this from me.” Jack said. “That guy’s blood was…”

“Oh my god.” Pitch whispered. “No wonder you were rubbing your lips so much.”

“Duh.” Jack rolled his eyes.

“That’s seriously not normal though.” Pitch frowned.

“I’ve always been able to do that.” Jack shrugged.

“Always?” Pitch asked in conformation.

“Well, as long as I can remember.” Jack shrugged.

Jack looked down at the bowl contemplating something before proceeding to lick it clean. Pitch yanked the bowl away from the teen, glaring.

“That’s disgusting.” Pitch said.

“I’m hungry.” Jack pouted.

“Then you can eat something else, just stop slobbering on my dishes.” Pitch said as he walked the bowl to the sink.

“Really?” Jack asked in surprise.

“Of course.” Pitch shrugged, turning to look at Jack curiously.

Jack grinned at him and leapt forward, clinging to Pitch happily. 

“Thank you so much!” Jack exclaimed.

“Okay, yeah, um…” Pitch stuttered, confused and surprised. “It’s uh, no problem.”

“You’re so nice Pitch.” Jack grinned as he ran over to the fridge and began to look through the rest of the leftovers.

“Jack.” Pitch said, gently pulling him away from the fridge.

Jack looked up at him curiously. Pitch was a bit saddened that the teen looked like he expected Pitch to change his mind.

“Why don’t we just make dinner?” Pitch said gently.

Jack looked surprised at that, his brows furrowing in confusion. 

“Like for both of us?” Jack asked.

“Of course.” Pitch smiled. “What would you like to eat?”

“Anything.” Jack said, smiling happily. 

“Anything.” Pitch repeated slowly. “Okay, well are you allergic to anything?”

“Nope.” Jack smiled.

“Alright then.” Pitch said. “How about burgers then?”

-

Pitch watched Jack fliting around the kitchen, grabbing spices and tending to the different dishes he was working on. Pitch had quickly figured out that Jack was a far better chef than himself. Pitch was stuck in the corner, having cut up the carrots and onions, and having nothing else to do. Jack was currently grilling the burgers on Pitch’s small grill, carefully watching over them while still managing to cook the vegetables perfectly. 

Shortly after Jack was serving the food with a smug smile on his face. Pitch looked at him suspiciously, before taking a small bite of the burger. Pitch’s eyes widened in shock, this was better than any burger he’d ever eaten and he’d eaten some really high class food.

Jack grinned at Pitch knowingly as he munched down on his own burger.

“Where did you learn to cook like this?” Pitch asked.

Jack shrugged and swallowed, looking rather proud.

“Instinct.” Jack said. “I know what everything tastes like, how it should smell and what the texture should be so I just use that to get it right.”

“Why are you living on the streets?” Pitch asked. “You could’ve easily gotten a job as a chef anywhere.”

“I don’t have even an ID, Pitch.” Jack replied. “No one wanted to even look at the kid that looks like he crawled out of a gutter. My shower is a stream, I have no money, or anything to help get any work.”  
Pitch paused and looked at the boy, thinking it over. His brother came to mind and eventually Pitch sighed, giving in.

“Stay here then.” Pitch said.

“Stay here?” Jack asked, confused.

“Yes, you can live here.” Pitch replied.

“I can’t pay rent.” Jack replied.

“You can cook for us.” Pitch shrugged.

“I don’t think that’s…” Jack began.

“Plus, I need you in this case.” Pitch interrupted.

“Why would you need me?” Jack asked.

“You saw the killer, you’ll recognize her.” Pitch said. “Plus, you’re not stupid and you know your way around. You’d make a good assistant.”

“You want me to be your chef and secretary?” Jack asked. “Are you asking me to be a maid?”

“No.” Pitch laughed. “You’d cook, because I’m not too keen on letting that talent go, and help me on my cases.”

“Um, okay.” Jack said suspiciously.

“I have several guest rooms, you can take one of them. You can eat whatever food you want and basically do whatever you want when I don’t need you for a case.” Pitch said.

“That’s it.” Jack said. “Just help with cases and cook?”

“Yes.” Pitch replied.

“Why are you helping me?” Jack asked.

“Honestly?’ Pitch asked. “I really do need the help and you remind me a bit of someone I knew.”

“Who?” Jack asked curiously.

“My brother.” Pitch replied. “You look nothing alike and don’t act very much alike, but you’re both very surprising people. Hard to figure out.”

“The scientist brother?” Jack asked.

“Yes, Sandy.” Pitch replied.

“Where is he now?” Jack asked. 

“He… in the final push there was an explosion.” Pitch said. “A lot of people died and Sandy… he hasn’t woken up yet.”

“I’m sorry.” Jack said softly.

“It’s not your fault.” Pitch said. “He got really lucky anyways.”

“What do you mean?” Jack asked, wondering how someone in a coma could be considered lucky.

“He should’ve been killed but somehow he managed to get clear in time.” Pitch replied. “I don’t know how, I’d say someone saved him if that were possible.”

“There were superhumans there, why wouldn’t it be?” Jack asked.

“None that were close enough to do anything.” Pitch replied. “Not to mention the explosions’ speed was off.”

“Does your brother have an ability?” Jack asked.

Pitch shook his head.

“He didn’t want to risk it and didn’t need to.” Pitch replied. “He didn’t even want me to.”

“But you ignored him.” Jack grinned.

“I have to take care of my big brother.” Pitch replied.

“Isn’t it the other way around?” Jack laughed.

“He was a dreamer and we were only a few years apart, so it just ended up that way.” Pitch shrugged.

“You really are a nice guy, Pitch.” Jack said. “I’ll accept your offer, but I’ll be gone if you do anything funny.”

“Because that’s exactly my plan.” Pitch said. “Loose the only lead I have.”

Jack grinned at him and stood, walking his plate to the kitchen and putting it with the other dishes.

“Where’s your soap?” Jack asked.

“Just leave it there.” Pitch replied. “You cooked, I’ll clean it up later.”

“Oh, alright.” Jack shrugged.

Pitch watched for a minute as Jack awkwardly stood in the kitchen before speaking up.

“You can wonder around, just stay on this floor.” Pitch said. “I don’t want my neighbors complaining about a break in.”

Jack laughed at that and took off.

“Thanks!” Jack called over his shoulder.

Pitch shook his head and continued his dinner. I hope he doesn’t break anything, Pitch thought.

-

Pitch was in his drawling room, analyzing the old information and past bodies with the new information Jack had given him several hours earlier when he finally saw the teen again. Jack walked in happily, sitting next to Pitch on the floor, careful not to bump any of the papers. 

“Figure out anything helpful?” Jack asked.

Pitch sighed and ran his hands through his hair, the actions alone answer enough.

“So, that’s a no.” Jack said. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I need to find a pattern.” Pitch sighed. “What do the victims have in common? Who is she going after?”

“What have you tossed out?” Jack asked calmly, looking over the pictures.

“It’s not a typical one.” Pitch said. “No gender, race, social status. Not hair color or eyes color.”

“Anything about their clothes similar?” Jack asked.

“No, it varies from street clothes to suits.” Pitch replied.

“Objects they were carrying?” Jack asked, picking up another picture.

“No.” Pitch replied. “They’ve had everything from expensive purses to not even a penny in their pockets.”

“Work, school, and places they’ve been to?” Jack asked.

“Adrien already had his best look up any cross over there.” Pitch sighed. “Just the expected, random slight crossover.”

“What if they have nothing in common?” Jack asked.

“You mean if she’s just picking people off the street at random?” Pitch asked.

“No, but if the people themselves don’t matter.” Jack said.

“What do you mean by that?” Pitch asked.

“Like, um… I read this book ones.” Jack said. “The killers were in New York and they used Monopoly to pick their victims.”

“You think she’s using a game to pick them?” Pitch asked, skeptically.

“I think she’s using something to.” Jack said. “Because, these people don’t have anything to connect them.”

“If that’s true then…” Pitch said, unwilling to finish.

“Yeah.” Jack said.

Just how insane was this person?

-

Dew stood, leaning against a bakery and nibbling on her pastry.

Five.

It was a raspberry filled one. It was really good. Dew thought figured that that person would like it.

Seven.

She finished off the last bite and tossed the wrapper in the trashcan across the walkway.

Ten.

Dew grinned when she saw that it actually went in.

Twelve.

She didn’t usually make it.

Fifteen.

Dew carefully brushed off her jacket and cleaned off her mouth, fixing her appearance up.

Eighteen.

Dew stretched and smiled as a young man walked by.

Nineteen.

She wondered what the white haired boy was doing.

Twenty.

She wondered why she hadn’t been able to kill him.

After all, this man had been no problem. Maybe it was because he didn’t have a number, but she didn’t think so.

Hmm… 5 times four was twenty.

What would she roll next?


	3. “Can ya keep a secret?”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Live is still in a cage. Aiden is really not stupid. Pitch shouldn't leave Jack at home alone. Scary people might come to visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is still on Hiatus. I had this chapter half way done though and if I did one more chemistry problem I was going to scream. So I finished it. As usual, not beta read so please point out any mistakes.

Live glared at the bars of her cage, seemingly her new hobby. She hated it here… which should be obvious, she guessed. It took a fucking weirdo to enjoy being held in a cage all the time. Live needed to figure a way out of this hell hole and not only for herself.

Jokul was out there clueless of this man. He might be strong and capable of taking care of himself in the outside world, but this man… was not normal. He terrified Live and she didn’t want him anywhere near her Jokul. He would be helpless against him without his memories.

Live had to save him. After all…

NO ONE touched HER baby brother.

-

Adrien sighed as he rubbed his eyes tiredly. This case royally sucked. The killer was a fucking ghost, nothing he did could find her. Even Pitch couldn’t find her. He doubted the list he sent the detective would help with anything.

Yet, that kid…

Jack had found her within hours of Adrien’s arrival. That meant he was either damn unlucky, or there was something else going on. Jack had somehow heard a victim’s scream from streets away when no one passing by had.

That was far from normal, but none of the drugs that Adrien knew of could give someone the hearing of a hawk. The only thing that came to mind was a blonde girl he had met a long time ago. She had incredible senses, but that was because her family made it a habit to enhance their kids before birth. She was the third generation of her family to have excellent senses.

Adrien narrowed his eyes. Well, this was the best connection he had so far. Let’s see if Jack Frost and Live Bennett had anything to do with each other.

-

Jack woke up happy and relaxed in a comfy bed for the first time he could remember. He grinned and stretched, looking at the clock on his nightstand. Six o’clock. Guess he better go make breakfast.

He didn’t know when Pitch got up, but no one he knew could down anything other than coffee at this hour, so Jack figured he was good either way.

Jack made his way to the kitchen only to find Pitch cleaning out an empty bowl of the remaining milk at the sink.

“How the hell are you able to eat at this hour?” Jack grumbled.

“I’ve been up for three.” Pitch shrugged.

“You do actually need to sleep, right?” Jack said, calculating out Pitch’s two hours of sleep.

“I am still human.” Pitch said. “I just have insomnia.”

“I’m sure you can afford medication for that.” Jack pointed out.

“Nothing works.” Pitch replied. “Whatever was in the black pill must have be able to counteract it.”

“Is the insomnia from that?” Jack asked.

“Partially.” Pitch replied.

Jack nodded, not prying any deeper.

“So, what are we doing today?” Jack asked.

“You’re staying here.” Pitch said. “I’m looking at the few leads we have.”

“Cause the person that witnessed the killer sitting in front of you isn’t a good lead.” Jack said dryly.

“You gave a decent description.” Pitch said. “Adrien sent over a list to interview, so I’m going to talk to them.”

“You’re going to talk to possible serial killers without someone that could probably recognize them on the spot?” Jack said, tone indicating just how many times he thought Pitch had been dropped on his head as a child.

“Firstly, invisibility makes me very hard to kill.” Pitch said. “Secondly, you’d likely have a panic attack at seeing the killer, who would recognize you as well, and make everything worse.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?” Jack asked.

“Stay here.” Pitch replied. “See if you can connect any of the murders.”

“You’re throwing out my theory already?” Jack pouted.

“It doesn’t fit with serial killer’s profile.” Pitch said. “They all have a type.”

“I’m going to gloat for years about being right.” Jack replied.

Pitch rolled his eyes and grabbed his coat.

“Stay here.” Pitch repeated before he left.

“Whatever.” Jack grumbled, getting to work making himself breakfast.

Pitch could miss out on waffles for leaving him here like a child!

Jack was plating the first waffles when a feminine voice rang out through the room.

“That smells delicious.” The voice said. “Do you have any extra?”

Jack spun around to see a young women with long black hair lounging on his sofa.

Yes, he was claiming the furniture as his until Pitch kicked him out.

Her brown eyes were bright and amused.

“Last lover.” Jack said as calmly as he could.

See, Pitch? No panic attack. Yet.

“I told you I hate that name.” Last lover smiled.

“I have nothing else to call you.” Jack replied.

It didn’t seem like she was here to kill him.

“You can call me Dew.” Last lover smiled. “All my friends do.”

“You don’t seem like the type to have a lot of those.” Jack said, stupidly in retrospect.

Dew just laughed though.

“You’d be surprised.” She smiled happily.

“I’m not your friend.” Jack said.

“Maybe not yet.” Dew acknowledged. “But we have a mutual friend.”

“I don’t have friends.” Jack replied.

Dew smiled at him softly, gliding across the room to place a gentle hand on his face.

“You just don’t remember them.” Dew said softly.

“How do you know that?” Jack asked, frozen in her grasp.

“I told you.” Dew sighed, gently stroking his face with her thumb now. “We have a mutual friend.”

“Who?” Jack asked.

Dew reached over and turned off the stove, slowly pulling Jack closer to her as she did so. Jack shifted uncomfortably and swallowed heavily at that.

“Don’t worry.” Dew smiled as she placed her arms around his neck and put their foreheads together. “I’ll never hurt you, not now that I recognize you, Jack.”

“Who are you?” Jack asked.

“I told you.” Dew smiled. “I’m Dew. And our friend…”

Dew leaned forward until her lips were beside Jack’s ear and whispered two words.

Jack gasped as memories flashed behind his eyes faster and faster until he collapsed into Dew’s waiting arms.

-

Dew gently lowered Jack’s unconscious form to the ground and pulled his head into her lap. She gently pet his hair away from his eyes and continued to run her fingers through it.

“I’m sorry Jack.” She whispered. “But one day soon you’re going to have to remember, but don’t worry, we can wait. Until then, I’ll protect you.”

Dew stood up and grabbed the waffle, eating it as she wondered what she should do next.

Eventually she drug Jack to the couch and pulled him up onto it with a bit of difficulty. She wasn’t used to dragging the whole bodies around.

She went over and rummaged through Pitch’s closet, throwing clothes everywhere until she found a jacket to cover Jack in.

Then Dew went over to the counter and placed her chest on it. She wasn’t pleased at giving up her prize, but she set the heart on the counter and jabbed the prewritten note into it just enough to keep it there without the blood making the text unreadable. The ink was resistant, her roommate was great, but no need to drown the page.

The Dew walked over and checked on Jack one last time before touching their foreheads together soothingly.

“Rest for now, little fratrem.” Dew whispered happily. “We’ll get everyone back together soon.”

-

Pitch returned after a long day of pointless interviews. He was tired and unhappy and pissed that he’d wasted the day on Adrien’s pointless leads. Not that he could blame the man himself, the whole cop system had flopped in this case.

Pitch let himself into his apartment and set his coat down, walking into the kitchen. Then he froze as he saw what was sitting on the counter.

A human heart, he assumed at least given the context, was sitting in a pool of blood on his counter with a note sticking out of it.

He shakily opened up the note, praying that the heart didn’t belong to who he thought it did.

_Dear Pitch,_

_This is your friendly serial killer leaving you a friendly little threat_

_Jack is a friend of a friend, said friend I owe a fucking ton to. So if you get him hurt… I’m sure you can figure that out;)_

_Lots of love and body parts,_

_D_

_Ps. Don’t let him remember everything yet. He’ll break._

 

“Pitch?” Jack asked.

Pitch spun around to see Jack, his hair stuck up and a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. It didn’t look like he’d changed out of his nightclothes from the morning.

“Jack.” Pitch sighed in relief, crossing the room to pull Jack to him.

The one-sided hug only lasted a moment, but Jack still looked at him strangely.

“Did you miss me that much?” Jack asked.

“It’s a long story.” Pitch sighed. “Anything interesting happen to you today?”

Jack blushed lightly and glanced away, mumbling something.

“You’ll have to repeat that.” Pitch said.

“I had a fit, okay.” Jack grumbled.

“What do you mean?” Pitch asked.

“Sometimes I just freak out and then I pass out.” Jack said. “I don’t remember anything that happened for at least an hour before. I only know about the attacks at all because someone saw me have one and told me what happened.” Jack grumbled.

“You should have told me about something like that.” Pitch sighed.

“I was trying to seem like a good roommate.” Jack rolled his eyes. “And it’s kind of personal.”

“I told you all about my abilities, you don’t think that was a little personal?” Pitch rolled his eyes.

“Insomnia and memory loss are a bit different.” Jack replied. “Wait, what’s on the counter?”

“Don’t look!” Pitch exclaimed, too late.

Jack stared wide-eyed at the pool of blood and heart still sitting on the counter.

“Dew is still at it then.” Jack said softly, not really appearing to be all there.

Pitch looked at him in shock.

“Who is Dew?” Pitch asked.

“Who?” Jack asked, turning to look at Pitch.

He looked a little pale and shaky, but otherwise alright.

“Dew.” Pitch repeated.

“Like the stuff on the grass?” Jack asked.

“You just said that ‘Dew is still at it then’.” Pitch quoted.

“What are you talking about?” Jack asked in confusion.

“You literally just said that!” Pitch exclaimed in exasperation.

“No I didn’t.” Jack frowned.

Pitch thought back to the note and something clicked in his head.

“Jack, how far back do you remember?” Pitch asked.

Jack flinched and looked at the ground, chewing on his bottom lip.

“A couple years, top.” Jack replied.

“So you don’t even know how old you are.” Pitch said.

“I think I’m legal.” Jack replied.

“You think.” Pitch repeated dryly.

“I told you, I don’t have an ID.” Jack said.

“Is Jack even your real name?” Pitch sighed.

“I think so.” Jack nodded. “I can vaguely remember someone shouting it at me.”

“So you do remember some things.” Pitch said.

“A few blurry details.” Jack nodded.

“Great, I’m calling someone.” Pitch said.

“Who?” Jack asked.

“Someone how might be able to get your memories back.” Pitch replied.

-

That damn man, Dew thought. She’d told him not to let Jack have those back yet.

Her roommate was very clear that he’d break if he got them all back at once right now.

Not to mention that Live would be pissed if her little brother got hurt.

Dew owed Live.

So she’d take care of Jack when she wasn’t busy looking for Live.

Oh, and killing people.

Everyone had to have a stress reliever though.

Dew’s was just unusual.

No matter though.

Dew would just have to step in if it looked like Jack would be hurt.

The things she did for that family.

Dew stood and carefully picked up her case.

Really, people shouldn’t shoot at Jack.

Dew figured he regretted it five minutes ago.

She didn’t think he was doing much of anything now.

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, there's chapter one. These should be longer than my normal chapters, but they'll update a lot slower. Chapter two is written and will be up soon, but after that this is a work in progress. Hope you liked it!


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